Maul slouched into his apartment, bone-tired from his latest rage-honing assignment as a urinal cake collector, looking forward to nothing more strenuous than a six-pack of Pete's and a few hours with Darth Lara Croft.

As such, it took him a little longer than normal to notice the change in decor.

In fact, it only hit him when he opened the fridge and found no Pete's.

Swearing in seven different languages, one of them consisting solely of emphatic gestures, he stormed back to the living room, intent on heading to the corner to buy more beer. Then it hit him.

Black candles everywhere. Patchouli scented.

Twin towers of Pete's bottles and Guinness cans.

A table heaped high with every form of chocolate to be found on Coruscant and then some.

Liter-jug of Wookieemint.

Iggy Pop blaring on the stereo.

And Obi-Wan sprawled on the sofa wearing nothing but a kilt and a smile. "Happy anniversary, baby," he grinned.

"Anniversary?" Maul scratched his head. "Anniversary of what? Yoda being inducted into the Corsetry Hall of Shame? Qui-Gon's first whammy abuse bust? You getting sent to juvenile rehab? My ma...guardian discovering the wrinkle-reducing powers of hemorrhoid creme?"

Obi-Wan chuckled. "You never change. That's one of the things I love about you."

"No L-word," Maul barked, then looked over at the table. "Ooh, is that Chubby Hubby?"

Obi-Wan's grin grew wicked. "I'm wearing a blue ribbon. See if you can find it."

Maul gulped hard and looked at Obi-Wan, his kilt reflex winning out over his exhaustion. "Wait, where's the cat?"

"Locked in the bathroom." Obi-Wan's expression turned pained. "She found the ribbon."

"Aw," Maul said mockingly, peeling off his shirt. "Let me kiss it and make it better." Climbing on the sofa, he straddled Obi's calves and peered under the kilt. "Ah, so it won first prize?"

Voice soft, Obi-Wan replied, "I think it did."

"Hey! Quit it with the sentimental crap!"

"All right! All right! Happy anniversar...oh baby! Yes!"

END...or is it?

Yes kids (okay, just the adults), write the ending to this scene! All versions that either require me to mop coffee off my screen or change my underwear will get posted! Maul, er, mail your entries to sithacademy@siubhan.com